Invincible
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#133
🕑 Added 2024-10-26 08:40:37 +0000 UTCSpecial Admission (4)
'What the hell is this guy...?'
Meldon tightly gripped the hilt of his sword but hesitated to draw it, his instincts warning him. He sensed that if he made a move, his opponent would react reflexively. In his mind, negative images flashed, like a cat pouncing and catching a mouse in an instant. The aura emitted by the child before him was unmistakably that of a predator.
‘If I do nothing, the result will be the same, right...?’
Meldon quickly reminded himself that he was an intelligent human being. He had to use his brain. The first step was to calm his fear with logic. He kept reminding himself that the boy in front of him was barely half his height.
‘The reason I didn't notice him approaching was because of the stress,’ he thought. He had been slamming the walls in frustration, which explained why he hadn’t heard any footsteps.
‘Besides, the kid... I don't feel any aura from him.’ He concluded that the boy must be untrained in the art of aura manipulation. 'And above all, he doesn’t even have a weapon. So why am I so scared? Yeah, he's just a fierce-looking brat.'
Meldon let go of the sword hilt and casually shrugged his shoulders.
“Yeah, I grabbed your brother by the scruff of his neck, but that was…”
As he spoke, Meldon suddenly remembered that this brat was Hersel Ben Tenest's brother. And if this was his younger brother, it could only be Mircel Ben Tenest.
‘Wait, isn't this an opportunity? This might be perfect!’
Even if he was a genius, he was still an unbloomed flower. And on top of that, he was without a weapon. This thought sparked a greedy smile on Meldon’s face.
"Heh heh heh. So, you’re that famous Mircel."
Mircel was expected to become a formidable force in the future. If Meldon could crush him here and now, it would become a great tale to boast about in the future. If he could claim to have defeated such a prodigy, his reputation would soar alongside it.
'Maybe I should train him not to even meet my gaze properly. That way, he’ll still be useful to me later.'
Meldon was confident he could make that happen. The secret to his rise to power was not just his physical prowess. From a young age, he had crushed the spirits of his rivals, accumulating years of experience. Breaking this kid’s will would be no different.
‘Let’s start by scaring him.’
It didn’t take long for Meldon to realize how wrong that assumption was.
Crack.
He looked down at his wrist, feeling a sharp, tingling pain.
"Huh?"
His right wrist hung limply, clearly dislocated.
Meldon snapped back to reality as he heard Mircel's voice.
“I can hear you thinking.”
“W-What did you just do...?”
“I twisted it, obviously. But why do you look so shocked? Did you think I’ve never dealt with someone like you before?”
"You little brat!!"
Meldon hastily tried to draw his sword with his uninjured left hand, but once again, a searing pain shot through him.
Crack!
This time, he didn’t even see Mircel move as his left wrist was also dislocated. Meldon’s eyes welled up as he screamed in agony, overwhelmed by the sudden pain.
“Aaaargh!!”
Mircel grabbed him by the collar, pulling him down until Meldon's knees hit the ground. Looking him in the eyes, Mircel drew the sword hanging at Meldon's waist.
Shwing.
"There's always someone like you, isn't there? Some idiot who thinks defeating me will be some kind of badge of honor."
Mircel placed the blade against Meldon’s neck, causing his pupils to constrict in terror.
"Wa-wait a minute. What are you planning to do right now?"
"From now on, I’m going to break the fingers that grabbed my brother by the collar. You’d better not struggle too much, unless you want your carotid artery cut."
Mircel spoke calmly as he twisted Meldon's fingers without hesitation.
Crack.
The once quiet hallway began to fill with Meldon's screams.
Inherent talent is like a sweet fruit that always attracts pests. It had been the same ever since he started wielding a sword.
Jealous eyes and provocations came at him constantly, and some even dared to target his sister Niasel’s vulnerabilities.
Every time, Mircel exterminated those pests, proving he was a poisoned fruit. Especially for those like the man before him, who dared to touch his family, he dealt with them even more harshly.
“Ugh...”
Meldon whimpered like a child. His face, filled with frustration, showed more signs of despair than the pain in his fingers. It was a familiar sight to Mircel.
“Consider yourself lucky this ended here. Next time, I might make it so you can never hold a sword again. Do you understand?”
With a face full of resentment, Meldon clenched his eyes shut and nodded.
Mircel, satisfied, withdrew his gaze from Meldon and disappeared into the shadowed hallway.
"Oh, and by the way, if you were prepared to devour someone, you should be prepared to be devoured yourself. Don’t go around acting all sly when you’re not ready for it. It’s just pathetic to watch."
Meldon, hearing Mircel's voice echo in the distance, clenched his teeth so hard that his gums started to bleed, holding back the curses that were bubbling up. As humiliating as it was, he had to admit he was so scared that he had been reduced to watching that monster leave, filled with dread.
"Th-this... brat... this little brat!!"
Left alone in the empty hallway, Meldon continued to curse under his breath for a long time. But the more he cursed, the less relief he felt, and instead, the anger he had tried to suppress began to rise to the surface.
Finally, drained, he lifted his pitiful face and stood up. His weary steps carried him toward the lounge where the captain was waiting.
‘...Heh, this damned brat thinks he’s the only one that matters, huh? Let’s see how you handle this. I’ll make sure both you and your brother understand exactly what kind of place Frostheart is.’
Meldon was determined to teach that brat a lesson about why the captain was feared.
Meanwhile, in the headmaster’s office, Rockefeller spoke in a shocked tone.
“You’re serious about having her take lessons from Schlaphe Hall?”
“Yes, I’m serious,” Arkandric replied firmly.
Despite Arkandric’s confidence, Rockefeller found it hard to agree. Treating a special admissions student like this was beyond the norm.
“Headmaster, please, reconsider just one more time...”
Before he could finish, Arkandric’s next words silenced Rockefeller.
“To Dorosian El Grice, all the academy’s lessons would feel like childish games. You know the Grice family well, don’t you?”
The Grice Dukedom was a long-established magical family with a prestigious lineage. Surrounded by unparalleled magical knowledge, Dorosian was such a natural genius that she could master the lessons her siblings were learning just by watching in passing.
‘The headmaster has a point… For Dorosian, magic isn’t something she processes theoretically or through calculations in her head. It’s more like she instinctively understands the essence of it. Would there even be a difference between the lessons in Schlaphe Hall or Adele Hall for someone like her?’
“But she’s still a special admissions student. If Duke finds out about this, it could cause some serious problems.”
“The Duke sent Dorosian here to keep her from causing any more trouble. I believe this decision aligns with his wishes.”
Rockefeller’s eyes widened as he realized the headmaster’s true intentions.
“...You don’t mean to assign her to ‘him’, do you?”
“Yes, as you know, even with three aura seals placed on her, it’s still a challenge for the professors. And we can’t always be around her ourselves, can we?”
“Oh, so that’s what you mean.”
Arkandric intended to use Hersel as a buffer to keep Dorosian’s chaos in check.
Rockefeller couldn’t help but admire the headmaster’s deep insight.
“That’s a brilliant idea!”
Indeed, it had been a headache of a problem until now.
***
The lesson today took place outdoors. The old professor, sitting on a neatly cut tree stump, explained the topic.
“Today’s lesson is about sharpening your innate senses. For this, you’ll need to fully utilize your mana sensitivity.”
The task was to find a mana stone hidden in the forest.
“Use your senses of touch, sight, smell, and hearing to detect the mana flow from the stone. Follow the clues, and you’ll find it. Oh, and return the stone immediately upon discovery.”
When the professor said to return the mana stones, the students voiced their complaints.
"Aw, come on. Can't we just keep them?"
"Yeah, especially since we’re short on money as it is."
As expected, the students of Schlaphe Hall were always struggling financially. Still, the old professor refused without hesitation.
“Hey, do you know how expensive mana stones are? If you want one, go find one yourself during the demonic realm training.”
While listening, I suddenly raised my hand, wondering how I was supposed to find one.
"Professor, I have a question."
“Oh? Haha, I thought you always managed on your own. I never expected you to ask a question. This is surprising. Well, what’s your question?"
The professor had left out one of the five senses in his explanation. It was a sense closely tied to my unique ability—taste.
"Am I supposed to find it using my tongue?"
When I asked, the professor avoided eye contact. Furrowing my brow, I asked again.
"Professor, am I supposed to find it with my tongue?"
The professor, pouting slightly, finally answered.
"To be honest, you’re the first student I've ever had like this, so I’m not really sure how to handle it..."
"...Oh, I see."
“Don’t think too negatively about it. Who knows? This might help you develop a new sense.”
Just then, I heard a woman's laughter from somewhere.
“Hahaha.”
I quickly turned my head, and the students of Schlaphe Hall exchanged nervous glances. They seemed to be searching for the source of the laughter too. But no matter where I looked, there was no woman in sight.
Half surprised and half serious, I shouted into the air.
“Gravel, have you finally become a perfect invisible person?”
As I asked, the air in the middle of the hallway began to distort like a mirage. Such flawless stealth magic—it made me want to learn it. I thought I should take Gravel as my master.
Just as I was watching with excitement, someone suddenly pushed their displeased face close to mine.
“Hey, that’s not me!”
Surprisingly, it was Gravel. Nearby, Ricks spoke with a confused expression.
"Th-this can't be, Gravel’s unique presence has been stolen by someone else?"
His group began to chatter with worried faces.
“What should we do now? I always figured that if things seemed blurry, it was Gravel.”
“This is serious... Could this be how she gets forgotten for real?”
It seemed like his lack of presence was his only unique trait, and if that disappeared, Gravel might actually fade away.
At their remarks, Gravel frowned with frustration.
“Hey, don’t you think you’re being a bit too harsh?”
It didn’t seem like a fake, so it had to be the real Gravel. But then, who was the other one?
All eyes turned back to the distortion in the air. Slowly, black waves began to ripple and take form.
"Hah, using your tongue? I was going to just stay quiet, but that was too funny to resist."
The seductive voice of a woman echoed.
The black waves formed into a tight-fitting dress. As the chains of aura clinked together, everyone gulped and began to back away.
No one seemed inclined to question why this woman was here. Reluctantly, I gathered my courage and looked at the professor.
"Professor, it seems someone has mistakenly come to the wrong class."
This was a class for Schlaphe Hall’s magic department. Dorosian should have been attending Adele Hall’s lessons.
However, the professor gave an offhand response and casually continued the lesson.
"No, that’s correct. Dorosian has been accepted into Schlaphe Hall’s magic department. Anyway, we got sidetracked. Let’s get back to the explanation."
Dorosian in Schlaphe Hall’s magic department? What on earth...?
“What does that mean?"
The professor, ignoring my question, picked up the roster. He seemed determined to carry on without addressing any objections.
"Today’s lesson will be conducted in pairs for safety reasons. Be mindful of the monsters that have awoken from their hibernation. Now, those whose names are called, you may start. Gravel Don Klabe, Ricks Don Orian, you two will be partners."
As names were called out one by one, my sense of unease grew. The fewer people remained, the more pronounced Dorosian’s presence became.
"Hapal Von Rhodes, Edril Jen Hartina."
Finally, when my name was called at the very end, a chill ran down my spine.
"Hersel Ben Tenest, Dorosian El Grice. That’s it."
When I heard my name called, I turned to look at Dorosian. She was already staring at me as if she had been watching all along.
With wide eyes, she asked, "Hersel Ben Tenest?"
